It’s a work day for me which means I get 3 hours in between drop off, pick up, and errands. I’m making breakfast and packing lunches and sneaking in sips of coffee in-between answering emails that came in from last night and he comes down stairs looking pale and worn. “I don’t feel good, I can’t go to school.” He has never said this before and I know he’s right. Goodbye, 3 working hours. There goes the day, I think to myself.
It’s 10am and he feels well enough to run some errands with me. I’m feeling guilty about my thought from the morning because I’m actually loving this time with him. I remember when it used to be like this every day. Just me and him, waiting for his sister to get home from school and checking on the yoga studio. I indulge in his company. Work will always be there, he won’t be.
We are walking into Walgreens to pick up medicine and he casually looks up to say “I’m thankful for you, Mommy. Because you always take care of me.” I bend down to tell him that he makes my heart so happy. I’m about to follow it up with “And I’ll always be here to take care of you.” But I quickly realize I can’t promise that. Reading my mind like he always does he asks, “But wait, what if you aren’t here to take care of me?” He doesn’t seem very concerned and I don’t want to make a big deal out of it so I say: “If I am not here, someone will ALWAYS be there to take care of you. You don’t ever have to worry about that.” And I believe it’s true but I hate it just the same. He laughs and said, “Of course Mommy, I know that.”
The moment passes and the sick day passes and the day that got away passes and the routine is put back with the making of the breakfasts and the packing of the lunches and the sips of coffee in-between the emails that came in from the night before. All of it. It’s all there. And it’s such a blessing.